[Editor's note: on Saturday, two of my favourite people in Vancouver the world, Kurt and Theodora Lamrich, tied the knott - at the Planetarium, and it was epic. And their reception at Main Street's Heritage Hall was equally epic and unfolded as a true representation of the couple's love and character. For example, the hashtag #TheoandKurtkiss was trending on Twitter by the end of the evening. The wedding was, like there love is, truly galactic. More importantly, it was foretold by one of William Shakespeare's little known comedic characters, Hornlet. The poem unfolds below. Enjoy!]
HORNLET: To wed, or not to wed–that is the question:
Whether ’tis proper to wait four years to marry
Finding each other, your quite good fortune
Did you take arms against a sea of troubles
And with our help, ended them. Tonight, no sleep–
No more–and when you sleep to say we end.
Marriage, tell your story together forever
That love found in you. ‘Tis a declaration
We devoutly wished. To love, to wed–
Marriage—to live your dreams: ay, there’s the rub,
For in your marriage what dreams may come
When you are nestled in your lovers’ coil,
Must give us pause. There’s the respect
To grow old together of so long life.
For you will bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th’ NPA is wrong, the Heinrich’s qualified
The pangs of bromance love, did some delay,
The insolence of Hornlet, and fiery burns
That nutted merit Lammer’s friendship makes,
When she herself might cross the hall take
View a bare bottom? What do neighbours share,
Some advice to live your married life,
Or the dread of zombies after death,
The undiscovered marriage, from you’s bourn
No traveller returns, journey you will,
And will you rather bear the love you have
And fly to places that we know not of?
This wedding does make lovers of us all (not literally, that’d be weird),
And thus the serious tone of my elocution
Is shaded o’er with a much happy thought,
Your enterprise of red hair and eyebrows
With this regard your currents intertwined
And love the name of Lamrich. — Soft you now,
The fair Theodora! — Kurt, kiss her crimsons
And we all your love remember.
- Exeunt












